


Belonging

by AllisonDiamond



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Platonic Romance, Slow Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10875582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllisonDiamond/pseuds/AllisonDiamond
Summary: Tony had went without a soulmate all his life, but after Civil War, his mark finally appeared, and maybe, this was the road down to happiness.





	1. Part I

 

 

To say Civil War hadn't affected him at all was an understatement.

But that was all in the past now.

Some days, he would wake up, screaming, as memories of the team berating and blaming him burned in his mind. Some days, he would wake up, trembling, as memories of him broken and dying _alone_ in the vast field ate at him until he could do more but remember how right everyone had been about him. 

How right _Howard_ had been. 

He didn't deserve a soulmate.

Maybe that was why in all of his forty five of years on this Earth, he never once received his mark. That _was_ before Barnes had stared at him, and they locked gaze, it was then he felt this itch, this urge, to write, but he couldn’t, not when they were in the middle of war.

It wasn't after the war, when he was lying in the hospital, with _only_ Vision by his side since Rhodes was in the hospital, too, recovering from his own injuries.

_** ***** ** _

It was then he whispered, “Pen,” in a raspy voice, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Vision had looked at him and shook his head. “You can’t,” he began in that fatherly, warm British accent of his. “You have to rest.”

“Please.” He had looked desperately at Vision. “Can you at least write on my arm?” He changed tune, as he tried to sit up, only to fall back on to his pillows.

“Sir—” Vision began, but Tony _needed_ to write something, to connect with his soulmate, now that he knew he _had_ one. He didn't care that he didn't know who his soulmate was; he just wanted to meet them, and hopefully, they would want him back, as much as he had longed for them his whole life.

“Please, V. I—” He stared at Vision pleadingly and desperately. “Do this for me. Please?”

Vision looked at him and smiled. “Okay, sir, just this one time.” He picked up the pen and held on to Tony’s arm. “What do you need me to write?”

“What? Am I a fortune cookie?”

Vision whipped his head around, dragging the pen away from Tony’s skin. “Sir—”

“No, no, V.” He laughed, ignoring the protest from his throat. “That’s what I _want_ you to write. I’ll explain it later when I’m out of this godforsaken place.”

Vision looked blankly at him. “Sir, if that is what you want,” he said, settling the pen against Tony’s skin, as he began to form the words into beautiful cursive letters against Tony’s pale, white, flawless skin.

Tony felt a tingle when Vision finished writing the phrase. It was as if an electric shock went through him; he hoped that his soulmate _didn’t_ ignore him. He wasn't sure he could deal with that rejection, not so soon, after his team had abandoned him, with the exception of Vision and Rhodes. 

Bruce would have been on his side, he was sure, but he went AWOL a while back.

“Sir, are you alright?” Vision’s warm, affectionate, concerned voice pulled him away from his dark thoughts. “Do I need to get the doctor?”

He shook his head, and managed to give Vision a small smile. “No, I’m good. I just … it _doesn’t_ matter. Not now. I’ll tell you later.” He yawned and his eyes drooped. “I haven’t realized just how tired I am.”

“Yes, sir, you should sleep,” Vision scolded him and tucked him in.

“If I’m pretty, I must be loved?” He smiled and closed his eyes. “Am I loved, V?”

“Sir, you will always be loved by me,” Vision finally said. “Your teammates love you, too. I don’t condone how they treat you, but they do love you. But they are wrong to have done that to you, sir, and I’ll make sure none of them get close to you again.”

“V, don’t. I forgive them,” Tony let out, as he fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of a metal arm and long, dirty, black, moonless hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: All this prompt asked for was: "Winteriron Soulmate AU where you write on your skin(or someone else does) and it shows up on your soulmate? With: "What am I a fortune cookie?"
> 
> But I wrote it this way. I wrote Bucky's part first, then Tony. This is a going to be a short fic because I'm burned from college, and this fic has been written already for the most part, so now, all I have to do is put the finishing touch. Thanks for dreamcatchersdaughter on tumblr for this amazing prompt!


	2. Part II

 

 

His skin burned and itched until a red, patch appeared, only to be replaced with: _What? Am I a fortune cookie?_

Bucky stared at his arm, as his heart sped up in his chest. His mark _had_ appeared. He didn’t believe that he had a soulmate, or if he had one, he was sure Hydra got rid of them. But to think his soulmate was still out there caused this small sparkle of hope to grow within him.

He _had_ a soulmate.

There was someone out there just for him.

Then it hit him, with an intense force, that almost ripped his heart _raw_ and _painfully_ from his chest. He wasn’t worthy to be anyone’s soulmate. His soulmate didn't deserve to be stuck with a monster like him. He wasn’t good for them.

It was better for them to go on with their life, without having Bucky there, as a rotten mold, to ruin things for them.

Bucky swallowed down the spark he felt when he ran his cold, metal fingers down the words. He wished he could meet his soulmate, but he was a mess, and no one deserved that in their life.

He reached for the sharpie on the nightstand, stared at his arm, as this black hole, this black rip, grew within him until his heart shattered into a million pieces.

With shaking fingers, he removed the cap from the sharpie, and moved it across his hand, as this need, this urge, to write took over him completely. _Goodbye,_ he wrote in scrawly letters, _my fortune cookie._

His heart crumbled in his chest and he let the silent tears fall on his cheeks, like dark, black, radiated dirt.

Soon, he fell asleep, dreaming of grease and big, round, beautiful, chocolate-brown eyes.

**_ ***** _ **

Bucky woke up, drenched in sweat, eyes blown wide open, as this red _blotch_ appeared over his soulmate’s phrase.

He pulled the string on, letting the light fall upon the small, pale room. He tried to slow his breathing down. His skin felt as it was ripped open and sewn on back, and he had experienced that _many times_ to know how exactly it felt. 

He slowly and carefully ran a finger down the _mark_ , only to pull away immediately when this _insufferable_ pain, like drowning, never to resurface up again, bolted through him.

_Oh_ , he thought when it finally dawned on him, _I rejected them._ He had broken off the bond, without never meeting the other person. If it affected him this much, he only could imagined how _much_ it affected the other person. 

It was nearly impossible to recover from a broken bond, but _his_ was still there, faded and red, but it _hadn’t_ disappeared completely.

He could _save_ his soulmate from going through a lifeless, meaningless life, walking in circles, with no destination in mind.

He reached for the sharpie again, closed his eyes, and wrote: _Who are you?_

He waited and waited until he started biting his fingers, waiting in anticipation, craving for attention he never realized he needed until now.

Finally, his skin burned, and glowed with this bright light. He looked at it and tired to make out the faded words: _You don’t want me?_

His heart sunk farther down in his chest when he realized the implication of the words.

_I’m sorry_ , he wrote back, knowing that the vague words might just hurt his soulmate even more, but he didn't know what else to write.

_That’s okay. I understand,_ his soulmate wrote back. _No one ever wanted me. I should have known that my own soulmate wouldn't want me._

_No_! he immediately wrote back. _That’s not … who are you?_

_Tony Stark._

The sharpie fell from his hand, and he stared at the words.

It _couldn't_ be. 

His soulmate couldn’t be Stark. He had hurt the man enough. Life couldn't be so cruel, not to Stark — he could care less about himself, but not to Stark. Tony deserved better than this, than to be tied to him.

He punched the wall and screamed.


	3. Part III

 

Tony braced back against the wall, strolling absently down his phone.

He ignored the rising pain in his heart. His soulmate _had_ rejected him. He knew deep down that his soulmate wouldn't want him, but for once in his life, he dared hope that he was wrong and didn't give himself enough credit.

But he was right like always; his soulmate flat-out rejected him.

It was okay, though, he will get through this _just_ fine. He was Tony Stark and he wasn’t going to let a _broken_ bond determine the rest of his life. He had money and friends, not many, but the few friends he had were the best people to walk this Earth. He can _erase_ this bond before it killed him. He can and he will.

He didn't really want to die.

Then his hand glowed in the dark, sending this jolt of energy down his spine. _No!_ The word appeared on him hand, almost angrily screaming at him, and he felt a piece of him being put back together.

_Huh?_ He thought, _so that was really a thing._

_That’s not … who are you?_ his soulmate wrote back.

Almost eagerly, too desperately, he picked up the long, thin pen, and perfectly wrote his name across his hand.

His soulmate didn't write back.

The minutes bled into hours, and Tony felt a part of him breaking, drifting away far away from here into nothingness.

So, his soulmate really didn't want him. He should have known. No one had ever wanted him before, so why should his soulmate be any different? He was the piece of gum that everyone desperately wanted to get rid of, but couldn't because it kept on getting in the way.

This was his life: his wonderful life of crushed dreams and broken promises. 

He laughed dryly and went back to stroll absentmindedly on the web.

_** ***** ** _

Tony was awaken by the light footsteps treading on his floor.

He woke up with a jolt. “Lights,” he called out, half-drowsily, trembling a little, as the blanket slid away from his feet. “Who are you, my midnight stalker?”

He placed a hand over his face, as the light slowly flickered on. _What_? He stared blankly at the figure in his room. _It couldn’t be._ His mind swam with so many hurt, angry thoughts.

“What are you doing here, Barnes?” he said dryly, blinking, trying to adjust his eyes to the shinning, blinding light.

Barnes stood there, dressed all in black, hair tied back in a slick ponytail. He looked awful, Tony noticed, from the dark circles drawn around his eyes, and the thin lines drawn around his face. He almost looked a little underweight.

But why should Tony care?

It was because of Barnes that the war happened. _No, no!_ He couldn’t blame the man for anything. He was a prisoner, trapped inside his own mind, programed to be a killing machine.

“Tony,” Barnes finally said, short and clip, but his eyes said a different story. They were so soft, warm, and _loving_ that it rubbed Tony the wrong way. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Showing us what _kind_ of heroes we really are?” He laughed bitterly. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Barnes. It isn’t your fault. We’ve been drifting apart. The Avengers. This was bound to happen.”

“Tony,” he said softly, moving closer to Tony, causing Tony to flinch. “I’m _so_ sorry for everything.”

“Barnes,” he breathed out, as his heart beat loudly against his chest. “I know I’m irresistible, but could you maybe take a step back?”

Barnes just stood there, as if he was drowning in something that only Tony could provide, and that frankly creeped him out.

“Oh, Tony.” He rubbed his hand down Tony’s face, almost affectionately, and Tony found himself leaning in for the comfort, the warmth, and the spark that ran through him. “I know I’m unworthy to be around you, doll, but I _hadn’t_ realized I’d almost broken our bond. I have never experienced a bond before and that’s ‘cause I hadn’t connected to you before the war. I saw myself in you. Oh, darlin’, I’m happy I found you.”

_What?_ Tony caught himself and lifted Barnes’ hand off his face.

“Hell no! This can’t be happening.” He glared heatedly at Barnes and then laughed. “Of course, it is. My soulmate just had to be my parents’ killer. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Tony.” Barnes stared at the floor. “…”

“Don’t,” Tony replied back, cutting Barnes off from whatever he was just about to say. “Just get out. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Tony,” he began again; his eyes hurt and understanding. He slumped down his shoulders in acceptance. 

“Please just leave. I don’t want to call V on you.”

“Okay,” Barnes agreed. 

He took one last look at Tony before he jumped out of the windows. Tony rubbed a hand down his face absentmindedly.

He had a soulmate, all right, it just happened to be Barnes.

Wasn’t life just a wonderful little bitch?

 


	4. Part IV

 

He welcomed the cold air, as it bit into his skin, like a nasty, slimy bug.

Bucky huddled the hoodie closer to his thin, cold body. He felt a part of him being ripped away from him, never to be returned again. He knew it was foolish to think like this. Tony hadn’t rejected him, not yet anyway, but he felt as if he had, and Bucky would never blame him if he ever did.

Tony deserved so much better than him, but _life_ had other plans for the poor man.

It _wasn’t_ fair. Why couldn't people determine who their soulmates were? Why did it already have to be predetermined?

It didn't matter. Tony was chosen for him, and he, for Tony. He couldn't change that. But neither he or Tony would be able to survive without the _other_ now that they had come into contact with each other. They were stuck together till their last breaths.

Once, Bucky dreamed and believed that when he met his soulmate, his whole life would be complete, and he would have the best damn sex of his life.

Before Hydra got hold of him, before he became _Winter_ , he had looked forward to meeting his soulmate. He had planned how easily he would charm them, how easy they would charm him back, and how right, how complete, how perfect, they would be when they came together as one.

Now, that was all down the drain.

Maybe if Hydra hadn’t gotten a hold of him, maybe if — who was he kidding? This _was_ all in the plans. How else was he supposed to live to meet Tony in this day and age? They were from two different lives, not to mention, an entire century apart.

Bucky sighed and kicked the cans on the pavement. He never wanted to meet his soulmate like this. Never wanted to put them through the ordeal like he had went through for most of his life. Never imagined his soulmate would turn out to be _one_ of his ‘mission’s,’ Howard and Maria’s kid.

But seeing Tony made him lost control until all he wanted was to hold the man, to kiss him, to love him, to show him how special he was, and never to let him go, as long as he lived.

He laughed and settled down on a city’s bench to rest his aching feet, but mostly, to think how badly he had screwed things up without even realizing it.

_** ***** ** _

“Barnes?”

Bucky woke up with a start; his entire body protested at the sudden movement. He had fallen asleep.

He blinked and felt warm, gloved hands on his shoulders. “Doll, what are you doin’ out here?” he said in a raspy voice, licking his dry, chapped lips.

“I _felt_ …” Tony looked at him softly. “Shit, I didn’t know you didn't have a place to sleep. If I had known, I’d never thrown you out.”

“No, doll!” Bucky was quick to reassure him, not moving away when Tony took a seat next to him, their legs almost touching. “Stevie set me up with an apartment. I … I must have fallen asleep after my walk.” 

Tony looked visibly uncomfortable, constantly looking into the distance, and Bucky didn’t blame him. Being here with Bucky was the last thing he wanted, he was sure.

“I’m really sorry, doll. I shouldn’t have … shouldn’t have acted like that,” he continued, as a nasty silence grew around them. “I don’t know what came across me. I’m sorry. Really, I am, Tony.”

Tony bit his lips and patted Bucky’s shoulder awkwardly. “It’s alright.” A half-smile stretched over his face. “I guess I should apologize too. There is this part of me that will always blame you for my parent’s death, even though, I know you weren’t entirely responsible. So, I’m sorry for laughing in your face like that when I realized you were my soulmate.”

“Tony—”

“No, Barnes.” He shook his head. “We are soulmates. That is supposed to mean something, and I don’t want to give it up. It isn’t like I can, if I actually wanted to. But the point is, I don’t want to give up something because of petty issues.”

“Tony,” he began, staring at him, like a small, innocent child, “darlin’, you have every right to want to break away from me. Your reasons are not petty. I understand them clearly, and I don't blame ya.” He paused for a brief moment, trying to control his beating heart. “I _wish_ you had a choice in the matter, doll, but you are now stuck with me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not the worst thing to ever happen to me.” He laughed. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Barnes — I guess I should call you James now?”

“Bucky,” he replied. “James sounds far too formal.”

“Okay, Bucky, so I guess I should invite you back to my place? To stay the night, or maybe longer to work through all of this.”

“…” Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but the words vanished into thin air.

“Okay, so that’s settled.” Tony got up and held out a hand in offering. “Should we shake on it?” 

“Doll, what are you doin’?” Bucky knew he shouldn't do this, but this didn't sit right with him, to just stand here, accepting this new form of hope when Tony still didn't want this or him. He had experiences with denial and it never worked out in the end.

“Making the best of an unideal situation,” Tony supplied, as if that was a reasonable answer. “I don’t want to toss you aside. You’re my soulmate. I want to get to know you better.”

“Tony—”

“Bucky, please don’t question it. I just think this is the best. I can’t exactly get rid of you, if I want, you know, so why not just accept it?”

“Tony—”

“Good, now that’s settled. Let’s leave.” He smiled. “I _could_ redesign your arm. Make it better, stronger, more comfortable.”

Bucky didn't say anything. How could he when Tony believed the best thing was to live in denial?

 

 


	5. Part V

 

Tony knew it was stupid to invite Barnes — _Bucky_ back to his place, but his head wasn't in the right place at the moment. And god damn, he had a frickin’ soulmate, and he wasn't going to throw that away.

But it was Ba-Bucky — the man might not be responsible for his parents’ death, but he wore the same face as his parents’ killer, and Tony couldn't just forget that face, even if he wanted.

He wanted to because reliving the past only turned his heart into ashes.

But he couldn’t, not as hard as he tried, and he tried his damn hardest to forgive the man after the war. Yet, a part of him, a really stubborn part of him wouldn't just _try_ to see the man for who he was now, and not the brainwash assassin he had been.

He would deal with that another time, not just yet; he wasn't ready to dig into that part of himself.

That was the best thing. How bad can it turn out to be? Considering all the crap in his life, it’d hurt like a bitch when they had to discuss their soul bond, their relationship, their history, and all of that good stuff, but he will deal with that when it came about. For now, he was safe, and well, that was all that mattered.

**_ ***** _ **

“So,” Tony began, fidgeting with his hands. “You should go in first. Or I could. I mean I don’t mind. But you must be freezing, and I’m warm enough for the both of us. I don’t mean that you have to stay out here ‘cause I’m warm enough for the both of us, but I- I, uh, yeah,” he finished off awkwardly, whistling nervously, as he forced back a laugh.

Ba-Bucky stared at him confusedly, but moved past him, and went inside. “Hey, doll, it’s okay,” he said slowly, looking warily at him, as if he was going through some mental breakdown, which he wasn't, thank you very much.

“Okay, I see you’ve made your decision. So, I guess I need to come in now, too. This tower is incomplete without Tony Stark, you know. Hence the name: Stark's Tower.” He glanced back and forth until his eyes settled on Bucky, and a blush settled on his face. “So, I guess I should give you your own floor. Unless if you want to share mine. I don’t mind.”

Bucky stared at him and shook his head. “I don’t need any special treatment. I’m okay with whatever you want, doll.”

“Okay,” he said, bitting his bottom lip, and he felt himself sweating. Had it gotten hot? He didn't know. “I guess I will show you to your room.” He stepped inside, closing the door. “So, if you’ll follow me on the journey of a lifetime. Not many had been invited to the Stark’s tower. You’re one of the lucky fews. We should celebrate!” A smile washed over him. “How about champagne! There must be some good ones still left.”

“Doll,” Bucky began, “what are you doin’?”

“Getting to know you, duh. Get with the program already, Buckster.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how ‘bout champagne?”

“I, uh, no, thanks.” Bucky stared at him, trying to get something out of him, he was sure, but Tony wasn’t exactly the easiest person to read, all for good reasons, of course.

“Okay, so no on champagne.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, smiling lazily. “How about scotch? You like scotch? Oh, you look more like a vodka kind of guy? Ooh, or do you just like beer?”

“I don’t want any, doll.” He stared at Tony and Tony felt uncomfortable at that deep, conflicted look. “Are you okay, Tony?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Tony squinted his eyes and brushed something off something Bucky’s jacket. “There was, a, uh, leaf there.”

“Thanks?”

“Okay, how ‘bout coffee? You like coffee, right? ‘Course you do. Who doesn’t love coffee? I’ll get coffee,” he said, almost heading to the kitchen before he came back. “You make yourself comfortable,” he finished off, heading back to the kitchen.

“Tony,” he called, causing Tony to turn and head right back. 

“Yeah?”

“I just want to sleep, if that’s alright with you.” He looked at Tony for an answer.

“Sure, that works, too. So, the room, then?” He laughed. 

“If it’s okay with you, can I sleep here?” He pointed to the couch. “I don’t want to, and this works for me.”

Tony stared at him and nodded. “‘Course, whatever you want. This is your home, as much as mine.” He smiled.

“Thanks for everything.”

“I aim to please.”

Tony stood there awkwardly, not understanding what the hell he was doing. This was stupid. What was wrong with him?

He was stupid, that much was clear, but why was he so stupid?”

“Um, I should leave,” he finally said after realizing that standing there, acting like this, was only hurting him for reasons unknown to him. “Nighty-night. Yell if you need me.”

“Alright, doll.”

“Good.” Tony turned around and walked away, but then stopped. “I don’t hate you, Bucky. I don’t know how to feel about you, but just know, I don’t hate you. Okay?”

“You don’t need to explain yourself, doll. I understand,” Bucky assured him, smiling tiredly, making him look all of the hundred years he had on him.

“I know. But I want you to know.”

“Thanks doll for letting me stay here.”

“No problem.” Tony opened his mouth to say more, but snapped it close. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Bucky nodded and smiled at him.

Tony left with his heart hanging on his sleeves. What was he doing? He wasn't sure, but one thing was for sure, this wasn't going to end good for him.


	6. Part VI

 

This thing with Tony was like a battlefield, and the further down they go down this road, the harder it became to get out of this _endless_ war.

Bucky bit his lips as he looked up at the wall. Why was Tony doing this? He knew he didn't deserve Tony, but this wasn't the way to go about that. They shouldn't act like they were two people happy to be together.

They weren’t.

But Tony wanted to hide behind his made believe world, which was understandable, of course, but he was putting himself on the line to be hurt.

Bucky had experienced enough of that to know that pretending to be dandy when you weren’t never ended good.

Hell, once he almost ran away with this one great dame, but her soulmate found her, and that was the end of that. Truth was he knew he was setting himself for failure, but she was a great dame, and he wanted her.

Thing was he didn't want Tony to feel obligated to treat him better, to get to know him better, or to spend more time with him. That didn't sit right with him. If Tony ever wanted to spend time with him; it had to be because he honestly wanted to, he wouldn't mind that, but this current predicament they had gotten themselves into, now, that was not going to end well.

He knew Tony must be worried that he _had_ to spend time with Bucky, or end up becoming a lifeless robot, unable to function.

If that was the case, they could arrange to spend time with each other a couple times a week — touching, holding hands, maybe saying something sweet every once in a while. That would work. They could live that way. Bucky wouldn't mind.

But this, he _wasn’t_ comfortable with, and from what learned about Tony, this was only to get worse unless he put a stop to it.

And he will, not right away.

Tony needed the time to think through things, and when that was done and finished with, Bucky was going to break through this _wall_ he had placed over himself, because he had to. It was going to hurt and hurt more than anything he had ever experienced before, but it had to be done, and it was for the best.

_Oh, doll, why do you have to be like this_. He rubbed his mark — the iron wrench — lovingly and gently and waited for the sun to rise.

**_ ***** _ **

When the clouds parted, and the sun came up, Bucky got, and attempted to make breakfast.

He took out the eggs, flour, baking power, salt, sugar, bacon, and got to work. He turned on the kettle, pouring the water in it, waiting for it boil; he wasn’t sure how to use those fancy machines.

In a big bowl, he sifted together the flour, baking power, and salt and sugar. And with his next hand, he started beating the eggs.

He wanted to make a hearty breakfast for Tony. The man had invited to stay the night over, and Bucky wanted to show how grateful he was. His apartment was a good hour or so away from Tony’s place by car.

And he didn't have a car. So, he was going to take the bus back, but the noise and the smell always got to him.

Bucky smiled as poured the bacon in the pot, let it shimmer for a while, before he worked his magic. Then he worked on the pancakes and eggs.

When everything was finished, he took two plates out, put a little of everything of them, and poured two strong cups of back coffee. He added a little milk to his, but left Tony black in case he didn't take milk or sugar with his.

He sat around on the table, anxiously waiting for Tony to show up, which wasn't too long, because Tony soon whipped his head around in the kitchen, closed his eyes, and moaned heavenly.

“Breakfast? You’re the best boyfriend I ever had! I love you so much, honey bunch!” Tony held his face in his hands and kissed both of his cheeks. Bucky struggled not to flinch. 

“I just wanted to do something special for you, doll.” He licked his lips nervously.

“And you set up a plate just for me!” Tony made a heart over his chest and smiled. “And waited to eat you with me! Why was I so against marrying you in the first place? You’re total husband material.”

Tony sticked his fork into a piece of well-cooked bacon, lifted it to his nose, savoring it before shoving it in his mouth, chewing like a little kid, pushing a little of everything in his mouth. 

“This is so good,” he said between mouthful. He lifted his mug to his lips and slurped loudly. “No sugar?” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s alright. I like strong, black coffee too. And it works so well when everything is this sweet. I’m officially making you the next Mr. Stark.”

Bucky smiled a little, trying not to look at Tony when he ate, but ended up looking at him anyway. _This was good_ , he thought, _for at least now._

Because after breakfast, Bucky was going to shattered Tony’s good mood because he had to. There was no backing down from this. It had to be done.

They needed to talk about this, and not to skid around the issue anymore.

But if it was for the best, why did his heart break a little every time he thought about it? Was it because the truth always hurt? Or was it because this morning, he got to see a whole new side of Tony, and he actually wanted that Tony in his life.

It didn't matter what he wanted. It only mattered what Tony wanted. That was all that mattered. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

 

 


	7. Part VII

 

Tony knew Barnes, no, Bucky was watching him as he ate.

He didn't mind, not really, but there was something about the way Bucky was watching him that rubbed him the wrong way. Barnes _seemed_ so agitated, so distressed, and Tony knew in the back of his mind that had something to do with him. He thought it had to do with his behavior — he realized it was rash of him to act that way, even if he had his reasons.

But it had to do with Tony himself. Bucky _didn’t_ want him. Their marks were just as much an inconvenience to him like Bucky probably believed it to be for Tony, too. That actually made _more_ sense than him showing up to be with Tony or some crap like that. Of course, it did. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

He must have came because the pull was too strong for him to resist.

Tony’s smile faded, as he shoved the food aimlessly into his mouth.

He really _had_ a soulmate who didn't want him, and that hurt, even if his soulmate happened to be Barnes.

His heart broke a little, but he couldn't remember a time when his heart didn't break.

But Tony needed Bucky in his life, and he was going to try him damn hardest to welcome the man in his life.  _Oh_ , he remembered,  _you can't, Tony, because of what you have done._

He had forgotten all about that. Well, he dug himself into the mess, so he will deal with it.

**_ ***** _ **

Something must have happened between him eating and thinking about Bucky, because he suddenly felt this sharp pain shooting up in his wrist.

_What_? _Oh._  He calmed his breathing down and smiled at Bucky when he looked at him concernedly.

“Tony?” Bucky hesitated for a moment before he moved his chair closer to Tony. “Everythin’ alright, darlin’?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just ate too much way too fast,” he said weakly, breaking out in sweats.

“Tony darlin’, you have to tell me what’s wrong.” Bucky looked him over. “Please, _doll_ , I can’t see ya hurtin’.”

Tony swallowed painfully, as the room grew hot, bolstering hot around him. “Nothing. I’m fine, Buckaroo. Chill!”

“No, you ain’t fine!” Bucky’s eyes turned dangerously dark, as he lifted his arm up, showing the red, blistering mark on his arm. “We’re connected, doll. I know _somethin’_ is wrong.”

Tony wetted his lips, but that only made them dryer. “I might have _tried_ to get rid of my mark,” he said quietly, bitting his tongue very hard to suppress the moan dying to come out. “There _is_ this pill — it _was_ supposed to get rid of the mark, you know? But it’d, well, it would _destroy_ me, way worse than meeting your soulmate, and not being able to be with them, you know? You can actually fix that, if that happens, you know? But there is no coming back from this.”

Bucky softened. “Tony darlin’.” He grabbed Tony’s arm gently. “Why would you do that?”

“I—I, uh, I _took_ it before you came. When you stopped writing to me. I knew you didn't want me. You still _don’t_ want me. And that’s alright with me. And when you came back, I knew … You’re just tolerating because you have to.”

“No, Tony darlin’, I _don’t_ think that way about you. I — I _was_ just worried how bad this will for you. Having to be with me. The man whom is responsible for so many bad things, things that affected you personally. Howard. Maria. You, Tony. I’m _not_ here ‘cause I feel like I have to be. I'm here 'cause I want to be.”

Tony chuckled softly. “Bucky, it’s okay. I _do_ partly blame you for my parents’ death, but nothing else other than that. You _don’t_ have to try to pretend to be happy for me, alright? I _want_ you to know that these past two days have been amazing, weird, but amazing. I only wished I have been given the chance to get to know you better. You seem like the type of guy I’d be proud to call my other half.”

“Is there any way to reverse the side effects of the drug?” Bucky tried to control his temper, and instead offered Tony small touches here and there.

“No,” Tony breathed out. “The 48 hour time period has already passed.”

“Tony darlin’,” Bucky cried. “There has to be a way to stop this. Will it help if I stayed with you, because I will stay, and never leave your side? If I … we try to get our marks back together?”

Tony shook his head. “That only _works_ if you have a soulmate. I _won’t ... I no longer_ have one. It _won’t_ work. Honey bear, I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse. I’ll come out sparkling like I always do.”

Bucky shook his head hard. “I won’t! There has to be a way!” He then turned and faced Tony, eyes red and bright with unshed tears. “Who created the drug!” He snarled, picking Tony up from his chair, to which Tony yelped.

“Babe, what’re you doin’?” Tony blinked, eyes dazed and unfocused. “Let me down!”

“Who created the frickin’ drug, Tony?!”

Tony sighed. “Hammer,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “Justin Hammer.”

“Hammer? Isn’t—”

“Look, I know Hammer is a bad man, and he did many bad things to me, but this _drug_ is — well, I needed it.”

“Hammer.” Bucky grunted and then growled before jumping out of the chair, like a goddamn leopard, with Tony in his arms.

“Bucky, put me down!”

 

 

  


 


	8. Part VIII

 

He didn't know how longer he could _carry_ Tony in his arms, how longer he could run, how he would _save_ Tony.

He _felt_ weak, oh, so weak, as if a part of him was forcefully being ripped apart bit by bit, and his body couldn’t, wouldn’t accept the change.

Bucky knew that was his _mark_ being erased from existence. He _didn’t_ want it to be erased, didn’t want Tony to go through that sort of _life_ , didn’t want to lose Tony — he didn't want any of those things. He _wanted_ Tony to be safe and protected, but most importantly, alive.

_Alive. Breathing, Kicking. Smiling._

And now that he _knew_ that Tony actually wanted to make things work between the two of them, a selfish part of him _wanted_ Tony to be fine, so that they could explore this new development in their non-existence relationship. 

He _will not_ let the likes of Hammer do this to Tony, and who knew, how many innocent people, from wherever the hell he was!

He _won’t_ let that man live!

Justin Hammer will die!

His eyes glowed red in the dark and he snarled.

_** ***** ** _

“Bucky, Bucky,” Tony weakly mumbled, hitting him gently on the shoulder, causing him to turn around immediately. “ _Hammer_ — he _can’t_ harm anyone from where he is. Please just leave him alone. He _isn’t_ ,” he slowed down, moaning, as a fresh batch of pain hit him, “worth it. You can’t stop this. It _can’t_ be stopped. I’m sorry.” He buried his head in Bucky’s metal arm, and he felt something wet dripping down from his shirt.

Bucky’s eyes softened _just_ a little bit for Tony’s sake, but his heart raced with anger and hatred. “Darlin’, don’t _ever_ apologize for something you had no control over.” He wished he could reach over and stroke Tony’s face, but he was _too_ weak, and it was taking everything in him to not drop Tony. “But _Hammer_ has to go! He _has_ hurt—” Tony unburied his face from Bucky’s shoulder and looked up through glazed eyes; they shared a look and the ‘you’ went unsaid between them. “He _will_ only hurt more people with that drug!”

Tony whimpered a little but shook his head. “Hammer’s a bad man, but he _isn’t_ responsible for _The Drug_ now — it’s in—” Tony whimpered a little more. “—the big pharmaceuticals' hands now.”

“I WILL KILL THEM!” He snarled. “ALL OF THEM! I won’t stop until EACH and EVERY ONE of THEM is dead!”

“Bucky, no!” Tony pleaded. “You _can’t_ kill them — they have family! Not to mention how wrong _[stupid, reckless]_ killin’ them is. You _can’t_ do that! I _won’t_ let you. I’ll fight you if I have to.” He weakly lifted his fist and playfully punch Bucky in the chest. 

“I have to. There is no other choice,” Bucky answered roughly. “They will _give_ you the cure and I will then kill them.”

“Bucky,” Tony protested, sucking a breath in, “listen to yourself. You _went_ through that thing with T’challa to get rid of all of that. You _can’t_ just revert back to all of that. It’ll kill you. I won’t let you!”

“Doll,” he let out in a wrecked voice, stopping and placed Tony on the wet bench, standing there before Tony. “What else am I supposed to do? I _can’t_ cure you … how else am I supposed to save you _if_ I’m not allowed to beat the livin’ shit outta them? I _can’t_ lose you, Tony. You don’t know how much this mean to me — meeting you. I’ve always wanted to meet you, and now that I have, I don’t want to let you go.”

Tony parted his lips into a small, thoughtful smile. “There _might_ be a cure. In Hammer’s warehouse.”

Bucky grew hopeful and pressed his forehead against Tony’s. “Where is it?” he asked desperately, looking at Tony for an answer, not backing down.

“That’s the problem.” Tony groaned, breathing heavily, but relishing in Bucky’s warmth. “It’s _burned_ down to the ground. Even if we _could_ reach there, hypothetically speaking, of course, we have no chance of recovering it in all of that rumbles.”

“Oh, doll!” Bucky smiled. “That’s wonderful. But if I _can’t_ find it in the next—” He looked at Tony and scratched his chin. “—hour, Hammer dies, and so does every one of those people who worked on the drug!”

“Bucky, they _aren’t_ all bad people.”

“I’ll spare,” he said, gazing at Tony’s dumb-founded experience, “the good ones,” he continued, eyes hard and bitter, “but the rest go.”

“Bucky, that’s not what I meant,” Tony protested weakly.

Bucky lifted Tony up again and off they went, treading into wild waters. He will do absolutely anything to save Tony, consequences be damned!

 

 

 

 

 

  


 


	9. Part IX

 

Tony felt his body weakening, but that didn't matter. He had taken the drug after all, so he knew the full capabilities that it could potentially carried with it.

But what bothered him was Bucky running away the city like a madman — he had lost track of where they were. The last time he checked, he saw the _‘Welcome to Brooklyn’_ billboard. Then Bucky stopped somewhere — a park, he supposed, but he couldn't be too sure. He _didn’t_ have the best vision right now, and he was sure Bucky didn't know where they were either.

But why Brooklyn?

_Oh._ Right, Bucky lived there.

But the thing was, Barnes _was_ , or _wanted_ to go on killing spree. Tony didn't know what to do. He _told_ the man about that untouched bottle of utopia buried under the rumbles on Hammer’s Industries. Truth was, well, he _wasn’t_ too sure about that. Hammer might have been bluffing when he told Tony that before they dragged him away to prison.

Tony had fought against him to get rid of the drug, and ironically, he ended up using it. Wasn’t life an ironic piece of crap?

Tony sighed, as the wind rushed through him. When _had_ the man started running again? Wasn’t he tired? Tony knew he was.

“Bucky, Bucky,” he yelled through the blowing wind. “Where are you goin’?”

“To Hammer,” he answered, short and clip.

“Babe.” Tony groaned. “I told you he wasn’t worth it.”

“I know,” he said gruffly.

“I told you the cure is under the rumbles of Hammer’s Industries.”

“And that’s where I’m goin’, darlin’.”

“Oh.” Tony smiled a little. “Okay, so where are we?”

“We’re almost there.”

“Not in Brooklyn?”

“No, doll.”  


Bucky went silent. Tony missed his voice; it was warm and welcoming, now it was short and clip, and just sounded unlike the Bucky he met. Well, he hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time with the man, but the fact remained.

He was _really_ going crazy here. Oh, well. It was probably the last time he was allowed to go crazy. Bucky might believe differently, but Tony knew there was no coming back from this.

But what about Bucky? Why was he doing this? He didn't know Tony that well, and sure, they were soulmates, not for much longer, but was that little thing really worth doing whatever the hell he was doing?

Tony couldn't help but want to know what the heck was going through that mind of his. Why _did_ he run all the way from Stark’s Tower to Brooklyn to Hammer’s Industries?

He wasn’t _too_ sure what went on in that man’s mind, but he was too darn tired to try to analyze all of this, so when sleep came around, he allowed it to take him away.

**_ ***** _ **

Tony _came_ around to the smell of a rancid smell and brunt woods, brick, and concrete.

_What?_ He opened his eyes and saw a figure digging through the rumbles. _Crap!_ He can’t actually believe that Bucky was doing this. _Was he okay?_ Tony thought, as he watched the man going through all of that crap.

Tony slowly lifted his body off from the — _was that a blanket?_ Bucky was full of surprises. Where did he find a blanket? Tony sniffed it _just_ to be sure — oh, it was clean.

He wasn't going to look too much into this.

Tony slowly got up, wrapping the blanket around him, and went toward Bucky, which was a bad idea, because the man was throwing bricks, dirt, and all of that crap, like there was no tomorrow.

“Ouch!” Tony quickly took a step backwards.

“Tony.” Bucky looked up from the crap, cheeks tainted black with dirt and the such. “You should be sleeping.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Tony took a look around the place and scrunched up his nose. “You don’t have to do this, you know. It stinks!”

“Yes, I do!” Bucky stared at him softly. “I’m _not_ letting you live like that. If I don’t find it in the next fifteen minutes. Hammer _is_ dead!” He snarled.

“Babe, we talked ‘bout this,” Tony tried, but Bucky just glared at him. “You can’t do that.”

“I _can’t_ spare him! I just can’t!” He frantically dug through the rumbles, and Tony noticed his hands were red.

“Babe, you’re bleeding.” Tony took a seat down next to him, taking Bucky’s hands into his. “We should get that fixed.”

“No.” He pulled his hands away and started to dig again. “Not until I find the cure!”

“Bucky,” Tony stressed, “let it be.”

“NO!”

Tony sighed and watched as the man dug and dug for what felt like hours, but he knew, it must have only been a few minutes.

Bucky grunted as he dug.

Tony tried to help him, but Bucky almost carried him back to his spot, and wanted to strap him there, and Tony didn't want that. No, thank you.

Finally, the man laughed like a crazy manic. And as Tony was about to see what Bucky was laughing so hard about, he felt this burning pain in him, like if he had been shoved through a building, and then burned alive.

He whimpered and the world was soon lost to him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  


 


	10. Part X

 

Bucky was eccentric.

He had found the damn cure. He desperately _hoped_ it cure Tony. If it didn’t, he didn't know what he could do. 

Tony was only getting weaker and his mark was almost gone. There was no time to go to Hammer and get him to talk about the cure.

This had to work. It was their only choice.

He shoved those dark thoughts down and stared at the cure, as if it was surreal that he actually got it. He bursted out laughing, unable to control how happy he was right now. Against all the odds, he had found the damn cure.

He was, oh, so, very happy. Nothing could take this moment away from him.

He turned around to tell Tony to tell him he had found it, but when he saw Tony, his heart dropped like a brick in his chest.

His whole world crumbled underneath him at that moment.

**_ ***** _ **

_Tony no!_

He rushed to Tony’s side, catching him before he hit the ground. He pushed back the hair that had fallen over Tony’s face making him look far younger and more innocent than he really was. Tony looked so peaceful, so at ease, so right, sleeping, and Bucky wished he could stay there and admire what a gorgeous man Tony Stark was.

But he couldn’t.

His _mark_ had faded completely, and so had Tony’s, he saw when he rolled Tony’s sleeves up. He _had_ to give Tony the cure now, or all was lost.

He desperately hoped that the cure worked … if it _didn’t_ work …. he _didn’t_ want to think about that.

He looked at Tony one last time before he lifted Tony’s head up and forced his lips apart, and poured the liquid down his throat, letting his head fall back, so that he can actually swallow the liquid.

And the he waited and waited for any sign of life — Tony _wasn’t_ dead, he knew that, but watching him lying there, not sleeping like he was before did not resign well with him. A dirty, ugly thought crawled at him. What if Tony was wrong? What if the cure actually have the capability to kill?

He didn't want to think about that.

Tony _can’t, won’t_ die because of him, that frickin’ drug. He won’t let him. Tony had so much to live for.

Bucky threw the bottle to the ground, watching it as it broke into a dozen tiny little glass pieces, as his world sunk around him.

He _was_ too late.

It didn't work. Tony was gone forever from him.

This was it. He had lost Tony. His soulmate. The soulmate he didn't know he had less than a week ago.

Bucky covered his face with his hands and let the unshed tears fall freely from his lifeless, dull, vacant eyes.

He _had_ failed Tony. His soulmate.

He should have never locked gazed with Tony at the battlefield — the war should have never happened. If none of those things had happened, then Tony would have been fine, alive, safe. He’d have been able to live his life. Found someone to love him for the wonderful man he was, someone he could love back.

Bucky was the reason Tony was gone from the world now.

It would have saved everybody if he hadn't came back when he went under. He _didn’t_ like going under, but if he had stayed under, it would have saved Tony.

He let the words cut deeply into him. He deserved it. 

He took his hands off his face and stared at Tony one last time before he was taken from him forever.

Instead of starting at a sleeping Tony, he was faced with a wide-awake Tony who was coughing up a storm.

“What did you feed me, Buckarine?” Tony coughed. “‘Cause I gotta tell you, I don’t actually feel that good.”

“Tony darlin’, are you really okay?” Bucky cried, holding Tony close to his chest before enclosing him in a tight hug. 

“Bucky. Need. To. Breathe,” Tony struggled to let out.

“Sorry, doll.” Bucky pulled away. “I thought I had lost you.”

“Lost me?” Tony huffed. “Please. I’m too smokin’ for even death.”

“Oh, Tony!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re happy to see me.”

Bucky then looked carefully at Tony before grabbing his hand gently, eyes scanning for his mark. “It _isn’t_ there,” he said, voice low and wrecked. “But it ain’t matter. You’re alright. That’s all that matters, doll.”

“Oh.” Tony looked at his hand and smiled weakly at Bucky. “It’s _just_ not meant-to-be, I guess.”

“Where does that leave us, Tony?” Bucky licked his lips. “I don’t wanna leave you, doll, but if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

“Hey, now, we _don’t_ know how that awful thing works yet!” Tony protested. “My mark can still come back. Has yours — your mark — is it back?”

Bucky rolled his sleeves up and stared at his bare arms. “It hasn’t, doll,” he supplied. 

Tony bit his lips. “Oh,” he said softly. “My offer still stands. If you give me the chance, I’d actually love to get you better. Inside and out.” He winked.

“I’d like that.” Bucky smiled softly. “I guess this is it, huh?”

“I guess so.” Tony laughed. “So? Wanna get in my bed, Bucks?”

Bucky chuckled. “Buy me dinner first, doll.”

“That can be arranged.” He smirked.

They took one last one at each other before they headed back to Stark’s tower unsure of the road ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There's an epilogue that jumps to a couple months into Tony and Bucky's relationship, and that's the end of this weird little fic. I don't know why anyone sticks around with this fic because it is a little weird, but thanks for reading, I guess.


	11. Epilogue

 

It  _wasn't_ easy for Bucky or Tony to head into a relationship right away. They both had their problems, but they did try to work through their differences, and in the end, everything turned out just fine, not perfect, but nothing about this relationship of theirs were.

It was, however, one of the best thing they both had in a very long time, and they couldn't be more grateful for getting to know the other.

Maybe they  _weren't_ soulmates any longer, but that didn't bother them. They had each other and that was all that matter.

**_ ***** _ **

**_ [Five Months Later] _ **

“So, Buckaroo,” Tony asked, resting his face on Bucky’s chest. “Are you happy with this? You know, with us not being soulmates?”

Bucky played with Tony’s in his hand and smiled. “‘Course, doll. I’m happy as long as I’m with you.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re one corny bastard.” He shook his head but then turned and looked up at Bucky. “But I’m just sayin’ _if_ and that’s a big _if_ — how would you feel if we can be soulmates again?”

Bucky locked gaze with Tony. “What are you sayin’, doll?”

“I’m just … would you be okay with us having those bloody marks back? Having to _live_ like that. Being stuck with each other with no way out,” Tony finished off, sighing. “You don’t have to say anything, you know. I’m just putting it out there.”

“I don’t really care, doll.” Bucky pulled Tony up on top of him until they were face-to-face. “All I want is to be with you. Be your friend, your lover, whatever you want me to be. Being soulmates _won’t_ change that. If anything, I’m glad I got to know you, really know you, by not havin’ to ‘cause of this drag, this pull that has drawn me to you.”

“Is that so?” He batted his lashes. “You’re such a romantic.”

“You deserve to be romanced, darlin’, and I’ll never stop romancin’ you, not as long as I live.” He laughed and brushed his nose against Tony’s. 

“But what if it _happened_? What if you wake up one morning and find your mark back? How would you handle that? Will that _complicate_ things between us?”

“Tony,” he stressed, “I _will_ never ever grow tired of you. And if I somehow get bonded back to you, I won’t say no to that, but I don’t care nor do I need that. I _love_ being here with you ‘cause you’re a special man, and I only want to see where we go from here.”

“So, you won’t be opposed to being soulmates?” Tony said thoughtfully.

“No, I won’t. Why do you ask, doll?”

“Bucks, can you be a sweetheart, and hand me that sharpie?” Tony smiled innocently.

Bucky groaned and reached for the sharpie. He looked at Tony skeptically before he placed it in Tony’s open palm. “I hope you _ain’t_ gonna draw on my arm again.”

“Oh, I won’t.” He smirked, lifting his sleeves up, and scrawling something on his hand.

Bucky felt something sparkling through him.

_It couldn’t be._ He stared at Tony. “Tony?”

“Just look, okay?”

“As you wish, darlin’.” He placed his bare, naked hand in front of his face, and smiled. “When?” he asked confusedly.

“Anytime would be nice. I was thinkin’ Winter ‘cause it’s a less popular choice,” Tony began thoughtfully, scratching his chin with the still uncapped sharpie, drawing little lines over his chin. “I’m in no rush. Just tellin’ you. But I expect the full deal: dinner, roses, chocolates, magical night, on one knee poppin’ the big question. Think you can do that for me?”

“Tony,” he pressed on. 

“Right. I _woke_ up and you know, it was there. I _have_ no idea it got there. ‘Cause I didn't put it back there.”

“Oh.” Bucky looked at Tony curiously. “I _know_ how devastated you were when you lost your mark, doll. You’re happy with this?”

“Yes! I’m _tired_ of Pepper bragging how great sex with your soulmate is!” he dragged on. “I love her, but she can be a real bitch when she wants to be.”

“Then I’m happy too, doll.”

“Really Bucky? You just have to agree with me?”

“I agree with the ‘sex.’” He winked. “And Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Hand me that sharpie.”

“Sure thing, honey bunch.” Tony threw the sharpie and Bucky caught it.

_Can’t marry ya if you haven’t officially taken me to bed yet_ , he wrote back to Tony’s **_Marry me, my secret solider._**

“Consider that a deal done.” Tony smirked and pulled Bucky down on the bed, settling on top on him before capturing Bucky’s smiling lips in a long, bruising kiss

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm still unsure what this entire fic is about. But it's finished (has been for a while and I wanted to scrap it) and I can finally build something concrete with WinterIron 'cause I'm a sucker for good fics, and this isn't one, and I've ideas for longer, well-crafted fics (at least to my standard). Either a Mermen AU, an Amnesia Married AU (Fake marriage or not) or one of those prompts sitting in my askbox on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://marvelmarbler.tumblr.com)


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